Jack walked with awe painted on his face. He looked around to the various buildings, each of which were built out of stone blocks, and all were at least two floors. The further one walked, the taller the buildings became, and the tallest sat in the centre at seven floors. The streets were wide too, and though many of the buildings were tall, they were quite small. Many of the buildings had gardens of various shapes and sizes. 

He saw a few people walking around, though they were all finely dressed and escorted by at least a guard. He caught the look of a guard and very quickly bowed his head, scuttling towards where he had been told the smithery was.

As he walked over he saw that the building was two floors, and instead of garden there was a large single storied building. He could faintly hear the familiar sound of a hammer striking metal and he walked over to the front. He looked around and saw no one around, and then read the board which hung on the door. 

Closed.

Closed? Would he not be able to speak with the smith? No! He couldn’t give up right now, he had already come this way and he didn’t want to see those guards again. He reached up and then knocked on the door, taking a step back as he waited. 

He didn’t hear the footsteps, so when the door opened, he leapt back away with a yelp. The figure who opened the door was a young man, eighteen or so, and had dark hair and dark eyes. His skin was slightly tanned too, with dust and coal painted over him leaving him with a swarthy look. 

The man glared down at the boy and then narrowed his eyes. “Sir Bloodwall?” he asked tentatively.

Jack looked up in shock. “Ah, that’s…” He swallowed. He had been told that he was no longer a Bloodwall once he stepped into the city. They had least expected him, so he could explain the situation. “No, I’m not. I-“

The man clicked through his teeth. “Then what the hell are you doing? We’re working hard right now and can’t be disrupted. Didn’t you see the sign?” He motioned to the board. “Get out of here, we don’t have time to deal with you.”

“Well, you see, I-“

The guy turned and then kicked Jack across his side, causing him to drop down as he stared up in shock. It wasn’t the first time he had been hit, but he didn’t expect the smith to just attack him in broad daylight in the street. 

“If you don’t get going, I’ll call the guards.” The smith turned and left, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Jack stared up at the door for some time before he noticed someone watching from afar, speaking to their guard. He quickly stood up and brushed himself off. He was red in the face as he turned and left, making his way back to the gates. 

The guards looked at him and nodded as he was let through. He sighed, not sure what he was meant to be doing now. He walked back to the inn and looked up to see Anthony, who was leaning against the inn with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Hey Sir Anthony,” Jack said quietly. 

“You finally returned. How did it go?” Anthony smiled even wider. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, but Jack didn’t realise that. Anthony had seen the smith kick the boy and had grit his teeth in order to stop himself from kicking the smith in return. He would only have to swallow the frustrations.

“Not well. I was denied at the door.”

“That’s a shame,” Anthony said, reaching down to brush the boy’s hair. “What are you going to do now? How will you become a great smith and return back home?”

Jack frowned, looking up to Anthony’s eyes. There was definitely something to his words but he couldn’t quite understand what he was trying to get at. “I guess…” Jack closed his eyes and fell deep into though. “I could go to another smith?”

“Oh? Let’s go and find another smith.” Anthony smiled, motioning out with an arm. 

“Right!” Jack said, standing a little taller. He probably shouldn’t tell Anthony that the smith had kicked him. It was already embarrassing enough that he was kicked, but to tell Anthony, who wasn’t his knight any longer, that would have been too shameful. 

Jack walked around, looking all about himself. Anthony followed patiently, watching the boy struggle to call out to someone. He found it quite fun to watch the minor suffering of the boy, as though he was watching a kitten unable to reach for string. He’d have to tell Ozcar about the situation when he returned.

Eventually Jack picked up a familiar sound, a hammer striking metal. He sped up towards the sound, managing to pinpoint the building with the help of his ears and, of course, the readily available signs between certain streets. 

There was a man with red hair and pale skin currently working iron. He was measuring the blade with his eye before hammering it again and then quenching it. Jack walked up to him and the man noticed the pair approach. 

“How can I help you?” the red haired man asked. Noticing the knight and the sigil he bore on his breastplate, he quickly stood upright. 

“Good evening, I apologise for interrupting your work.” Jack bowed his head slightly.

“No, no,” the man said. “I was finishing up.”

“I was hoping to apply to become your apprentice.”

“My apprentice? Wouldn’t someone of your kind want to join Smith Carlson?” He frowned. “I can show you the way.”

“Unfortunately, I was kicked out the door.” Jack’s lips quivered. He stared up at the man, a look of a lost puppy on his face. “I have to become a great smith in order to return home, please…”

Anthony’s face grew a glare as he stared at the smith. For his little sir to ask so politely, this man better realise the situation he was in. 

It was awkward for Terry to take in the boy for a few reasons, but seeing the look of the knight and the hope in the boy’s eyes, he sighed. “I won’t be able to take you unless I test you.”

“I have a letter from my fa-“ Jack cleared his throat, “Chief Bloodwall.” He reached into his cloak and pulled it out for the man to read.

Terry scanned it, raising his brow as he did. He looked down at the boy and then back to the letter. He couldn’t help but think that Chief Bloodwall was quite an awful fellow, much like the other nobles around. He had expected the Chief to be different from what he had heard. 

“Alright,” he said. “Since Smith Carlson has refused you, I’ll take the good fortune with a smile. Are you staying at an inn tonight?” 

“That’s right,” Jack said. “I’ll be staying there for…”

“Some time,” Anthony said, non-committally. He actually hadn’t booked the inn for the young man as he had tailed him and then darted ahead so he wasn’t caught when the young man returned. 

“It seems you are no longer a member of your household, but I will try and come up with accommodation which suits you.”
 
“That won’t be necessary,” Anthony said, placing a hand on the smith’s shoulder. “The young sir, I mean, Jack needs to find his own way in the world otherwise Chief Bloodwall won’t respect the achievement.” His eyes, however, were saying something very different to the smith. 

“I understand,” Terry said. “I’m Smith Terry,” the man said, extending out a hand to the boy.

“Jack,” he replied back, shaking the smith’s hand. 

“Come here at noon tomorrow and I’ll give you a little quiz so I can see how fresh you are. I’ll introduce you to my daughter, my other apprentice, as well.”

“Thank you Smith Terry,” Jack said, bowing his head. “Good night to you.”

“Good night to you as well.”

Anthony escorted Jack back as Terry sighed and packed up for the night. He rubbed his face as he poured himself some tea. 

“What’s the matter?” Merri asked. “You look like you’ve suckled on a hog’s hog.” Merri was a fairly tall girl, with short red hair and pale skin with freckles. She had a boyish look to her, though that was expected considering whose daughter she was.

“Jack Bloodwall is going to be joining our smithery,” he said. 

“A Bloodwall?” Merri frowned. 

“Don’t start any trouble with him,” Terry warned. “He’s been kicked out of his family until he can earn his own achievements. It says he isn’t too bad at smithing so we’ll take him on.”

“So are we going to sabotage him?”

“If it comes to it,” he said. “Whether he becomes a smith will be up to me, so don’t bother him.”

“I’ll bother him if I want. Who are you to tell me what to do?” She almost kicked her father, who brought up his leg to meet the kick. 

“This concerns your life, so you’ll listen to me.” He grabbed a cloth and whipped her across her head with it with a practised position. 

“Watch it, you old geezer!”

“If you can’t stand the little noble boy, just ignore him after you’re introduced.” Terry sighed. “We tried to stay away from trouble, but trouble just knocks at our door. I’ll explain the situation to the boss.”

 

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This smith just kicked Jack? Is he courting death?